Getting Into Character
by PumpkinSnitch
Summary: When a killer is involved in organized crime, two of the team must go undercover- Tony's specialty, right? Team focus with Tony at the helm in later chapters. On a break to work on other stories
1. Prologue

_Hi everyone! I'm back and I'm excited for this new story. Updates may be sporadic until next week, but I promise to keep the updates coming. Enjoy!_

The van couldn't sit on the curb. It was a little suspicious- a big dark unmarked van can't just stay neutral on the side of the street in Washington DC. People passing would report it to the police or nearest security station, and drawing attention to it would blow its cover. So, it had to be parked out of sight, where it could be of little help should it be needed.

Several men stepped off the cold sidewalk of Pennsylvania Avenue and entered their hotel-The Willard-formal black tuxedos covering their white dress shirts. The people having Christmas tea in the lobby would have assumed these well-dressed people were just here for the wedding reception going on in the Grand Ballroom.

The men certainly looked the part, the red flowers on their breast pockets, the gelled hair, the look of celebration on each face. But the guests who saw them didn't know that the wedding party upstairs had red roses. These men had red carnations on their jackets.

The group meandered over to the front desk, checked in, and then went to the Scotch Bar, where two more men in identical dress sat, the older one nursing a heavy vodka, the younger a scotch. That made six people.

After some conversation, the enlarged group strolled to the Crystal Room, which is on the lobby level. The men were in no hurry- they took their time, but eventually made it to the entrance to the Room itself. The doors slid open, and the men entered a party of their own. Only about one hundred people were present, but the room was decorated tastefully. Red carnations filled crystal vases scattered around the room. Women in formal evening dresses lingered on the arms of their husbands. It was obvious that every person attending this party was wealthy, but used to hard work.

The party goers were celebrating a... successful business season. If one turned their eyes to the front of the room, next to the buffet table, they would have seen a podium, and a stout, weathered man about to draw everyone's attention.

But just as the speech was about to begin, the older of the two men from the bar pulled out a small revolver. It was vintage, as he said he enjoyed "a classic" when he needed protection. His aim found the retreating form of the younger man with him, and he fired.

The young man hit the ground, his back arching with the impact of the shot. He landed on his side, rolled over onto his stomach, and was still. A trail of blood crept from his mouth.

All eyes turned to the shooter, and everything was silent. The man seemed not to notice. He simply approached the body, and felt for a pulse. A satisfied smile touched his face. He took the victim's knife from his pocket- which he was known to keep in case of emergencies. Nobody noticed the other shape in the pocket- the distinct shape of a federal NCIS agent's badge.

_So, what did you think? Why don't you let me know. Leave a comment. _

_By the way, the Willard is real and one of the fanciest hotels I have ever been in. I hope that one day I will get to be a real guest._


	2. The Scarf

**Hi, everyone! I know, it's been a very long time since my last update. I feel bad, but with school and the holidays, things got away from me. To make up for it, he story will be uploaded like mad until Christmas. This chapter is short and sweet just to get the ball rolling. Enjoy!**

Ziva entered the bullpen to the lovely sight of Tony DiNozzo applying deodorant. His shirt was half on, half off, and traces of overpriced shaving cream still lingered around his face. One shoe was thrown on, the other was hiding under his desk.

"Why must you do that here?" the Israeli said, shooting him a glare as she dropped her backpack behind her desk.

"I accidentally went back to sleep after Gibbs called," Tony replied, fixing his shirt and wiping his face with a small towel. "And I didn't exactly want to be late today."

"Gibbs will be in a bad mood," McGee said, entering with breakfast foods for each member of the team. Ziva took hers with a smile and a thank you. Tony picked up his and sniffed it warily.

"What?" Tim asked, confused.

"What's in here? Chili powder? Food coloring?"

"Why would I do that?" There was a pause, as DiNozzo stared at McGee, trying to look for a sign that he was just acting innocent.

"He is probably worried about us trying to get back at him for past holiday surprises," Ziva said without looking up. "It occurred to me this morning that it is that time of year. I am right, Tony?"

DiNozzo chuckled nervously. It was all the answer his teammates needed. "I wouldn't do that to you Tony," McGee said. With a grin he added, "Not today anyways. But we've still got almost a month 'till Christmas."

"It would be wise to refrain from any practical jokes today," Ziva said.

"Why?"

The three turned to see Abby, who smiled and bounced over, hugging each team member. "How was everyone's time off? Thanksgiving was so much fun! Did you go out for Black Friday?"

"I'm not crazy, Abby," Tony said. "There's no way I'm going to put myself in harm's way for a cheaper price on a flatscreen and end up getting pepper sprayed in the face."

"But that's the fun of it!" Abby said. "The craziness. There's nothing like wrestling a stranger over a half-priced blender from Wal-Mart."

"That is how you spent your Black Friday, Abby?" Ziva said.

"Yep!" The lab rat replied cheerfully. "Did you go out, Ziva?"

"Actually, I did," she replied, earning a shocked face from the Senior Field agent. "I now have a very nice toaster and a new reading lamp. All of my shopping is done as well."

"Did you fight anyone?" Tony asked. Abby and Tim rolled their eyes.

"I would not call it a fight," Ziva replied mysteriously. "But there is a man out there who will spend the rest of November recovering from hurt pride and possibly a broken nose."

The bullpen was silent, as everyone stared at their ex-Mossad ninja.

"You're coming with me next year," Abby said. Then she turned to face Tony. "Why no practical jokes today? I mean, Gibbs is never in the mood for them but today especially...?"

"Well, you know our vacation got cut short two days," Tony began. "And because of Black Friday, Gibbs' favorite coffee supplier is closed for the day."

"Gibbs without his normal coffee..." Abby said melodramatically. "That's something I have rarely ever seen."

"It's not pretty," Tony stated.

"What isn't pretty?"

The agents scrambled to get their gear as Gibbs walked in. "Uh... McGee's new haircut, Boss," Tony said, earning a glare from Tim.

Gibbs stared at his agent for a second. "Doesn't look like he got it cut, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, handing a Caf-Pow! to Abby. Ziva glared at Tony. Gibbs ignored them, and took a sip of his coffee. Everyone stared at the cup.

"What?" Gibbs said sharply.

"Is that your usual coffee, Boss?" McGee asked nervously.

"Yeah, McGee. What about it?"

"Isn't the business closed today?" Ziva spoke up. The agents went among their tasks of "gearing up".

"Not for their biggest customer, Ziver," Gibbs smirked and led his team to the elevator, leaving Abby alone in the bullpen.

"Ok!" She said, calling after them. "I'll be here!"

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCIS

The van pulled up to an alley in between two businesses nestled neatly on the Main Street.

"Welcome to Carrey Ridge," Tony said with slight sarcasm. "Middle of nowhere, Maryland."

"This guy is pretty well dressed for 'middle if nowhere'... Even if its the holidays," McGee remarked, snapping a photo of the body.

The victim was a man around forty, trim and well groomed. An expensive suit was spattered in the chest with dried blood. At least five bullet wounds were visible. Oddly enough, he wore clashing, hand-knitted scarf around his neck.

"How long do you think it'll take Palmer to navigate his way out here?" DiNozzo chuckled.

"Not too long, I think," Palmer cut in, making his way to the body, and leaving Tony speechless. Gibbs smirked.

"Yes, Mr. Palmer's resolution was to make it to a crime scene on time at least once this year," Ducky chimed in. "And he was running out of time."

As the Medical Examiner and his assistant went about their business, Ziva wandered to the back of the alley. A few dumpsters and crates sat against each wall. The young agent scanned every inch of the space, channeling all of her "ninja" powers of observation. She saw nothing of importance until...

"Gibbs!"

The team leader joined his agent amongst the trash. When he reached her, he followed her line of sight to the hilt of what was undoubtedly a large knife. After photos were taken, gloved hands pried the discarded weapon out from behind a crate. The blood that covered the blade definitely qualified as evidence.

"Wonder if this is our victim's," Tim said.

"But he was shot," Ziva pointed out.

"Oh, our friend here was shot, most definitely," Ducky said. "But those might not be the fatal wounds." At the questioning looks he received, he lifted the scarf, to reveal a long slash across the man's throat.

**Reviews are the best presents!**


	3. The Story

**Hi everybody! I hope everyone's Christmas was Merry! And if not Christmas, then holiday or season. :)**

_back in the bullpen:_

"What've you got, McGee?" Gibbs strolled in, fresh coffee in hand. Tony stared at the cup as discreetly as he could, slight jealousy written on his face. He glanced at his cheap break room coffee.

"Abby confirmed the victim's name as Markus Gallo," Tim began. "He w-"

"Markus Gallo? As in the Gallo family scandals? The arms dealers?" Tony interrupted.

"Gallo...Italian crime? Like your movie, Tony. The Godmother."

"The Godfather, Ziva. You know, making an offer he can't-"

Gibbs promptly head slapped his agent.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Would someone please explain this Gallo family scandal? I feel it might be important," Ziva said with some impatience.

"Back in the 1980s there was a killing spree in upstate New York. Seven members of the Navy were killed. The prime suspect was Ernest Gallo, the family...patriarch at the time. They did an investigation," McGee explained.

"An undercover one. An NCIS agent was sent in to find the kind of evidence that could be used against Gallo in court," Gibbs put in. "Never got it." His agents turned to look at their boss.

"You, Gibbs?" Ziva said, already knowing by the look on his face that it was.

"Knew he looked familiar," Gibbs muttered. After that, his expression became unreadable again. He walked out of the bullpen without a word. There was a pause, then Ziva said quietly. "What else, McGee?"

"Well, Ernest Gallo never studied in law, but he had an exceptional understanding of the legal system. He had a way out of everything."

"Not to mention the fact that he could afford the best lawyers in the country, McDramaqueen," Tony said, smirking.

Tim glanced at him but continued. "They searched his home up and down, tailed him, but really, to know much about the Gallo family, you had..have to be part of the Gallo family."

"They are the mafia, yes?" Ziva asked.

"Well, they're more of a splinter group. They don't really answer to anyone we know of, they just do business with them. Their income has come from lots of things over the years. Smuggling arms, illegal clubs, all very 1920s era sort of thing."

"Wait, how do you know all this, McGee?" Tony questioned.

"Friend of mine's dad was part of the team that tried to take him down," Tim said. "But he walked."

"Well of course he did," Tony said. "It's almost impossible to actually hold something against that kind of criminal. They're too good at hiding things."

"Do we know he was really guilty?" Ziva said.

"I know," Gibbs said, as he strolled through the area, dropping an enormous file on Tim's desk, and continuing up the stairs to the director's office. Tony all but pounced on the file. Tim rose quickly and he and Ziva crowded around, trying to see.

Scribbled in practically illegible handwriting, were details about Gibbs' time undercover. He spent most of it working as a 'lawyer' for Ernest Gallo, learning as much as he could. He worked closely with Ernest and his young sons, Markus and Thomas. But in the end, all of the evidence fell through. Not even Gibbs could prove that Ernest was guilty, because anything incriminating would simply disappear before a witness could do a double take.

"So, Gibbs' trusted rule about not involving lawyers seems kind of weird now that I know he was one." Tony said.

"He was just undercover, Tony." McGee said. "The biggest thing is how even after all that, Gallo's charges were all dropped."

"Wait," Ziva said. "Look." She pointed to a line at the bottom of the page, where a single line of red ink told its readers:

Suspect found dead in the Striesmont Hotel, New York, 2 weeks after mission was aborted.

"Does it say why the mission was aborted?" Ziva asked. Tony flipped through the pages.

"It just says that it was becoming dangerous to continue, they weren't learning anything, and Gibbs was needed elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?" McGee said in question.

"Oh, it was around the time that he and Director Shepard began their series of operations," Ziva said.

"Learned anything yet?" Gibbs demanded in his usual way as he reentered. Tim leapt back to his chair.

"Markus Gallo, 32 years old, no kids, no wife. Parents both dead. He was a member of the Navy, active duty and then reserve. After that, he's only in the FBI database as a known active member of the Gallo family. He managed to stay considerably under the radar since."

"He seemed somewhat older than 32," Ziva said, thinking to herself more than to her teammates.

"He's always looked older," Gibbs said gruffly. "Just a family trait."

"He was found with a wallet. Nothing in it but a fifty dollar bill and a room key to the hotel down the street from where he was found. He had his old dog tags in his pocket, which is why we were called out," Tony spoke up.

"Did Abby get the DNA on the knife?" Gibbs asked of his junior agent.

"Yeah..." McGee pulled up the info on the screen. "Abby confirmed the blood to be Markus' and Ducky says that the blade could match with the slash in his throat."

"So we have the murder weapon?" Ziva questioned.

"But nothing else," Tony said pessimistically. Tim and Ziva glared.

"Sorry," DiNozzo muttered. "I'm just a little..." He trailed off, giving another glance at Gibbs' coffee.

"I will call the hotel he was staying at," Ziva said.

"McGee," Gibbs said.

"I'll find his home and phone," the agent responded.

"DiNozzo."

"Boss?"

Gibbs took the thick file off McGee's desk and onto Tony's. "I want to see a timeline from this to now," Gibbs said.

"Yes, Boss." Tony moved to sit at his desk, and Gibbs moved to leave the bullpen.

"And DiNozzo."

Tony's head shot up."Get yourself some coffee and stop staring at me," Gibbs all but barked.


	4. The Family History

Shaking the cold of winter off of his jacket, Tony returned to the bullpen with some real coffee to find Tim and Ziva hard at work. McGee was typing on his computer, a look of serious concentration on his face. Ziva was on the phone, arguing.

"N. C. I. S! We are real! Naval, criminal, investigative- no, not like CSI that is a television show. We are... Yes. Finally. Thank you! I need to know what room number a Markus Gallo was staying in. Gallo. G...A...L...L..O."

Tony smiled and sat at his desk. He started rifling through the papers, and listened closely. "Yes, we will be coming to investigate. Yes. _NCIS!_ Thank you."

Ziva slammed the phone into its cradle, making Tony, McGee, and several other nearby agents jump.

"I cannot believe some people still do not know who we are!" The ninja muttered, following that with a stream of curses in several languages. Tony caught at least one long phrase in Italian and two in Spanish. Tim recognized a Chinese one that his world-traveling grandmother Penny uttered on rare occasions.

"Wow, Zee-va. And yes, some people will never know who we are," Tony said.

"I tried to convince the woman that it was real, but I had to wait until she googled it!"

"I'm surprised that a little town like that even gets Internet," McGee said, only half aware of what was going on around him.

"Well, he was staying in room 104," Ziva said. "I will probably need a warrant since the manager will have forgotten us by the time we get there!" After she obtained said warrant, she sat there, not knowing what to do. That was when she noticed DiNozzo's puzzled expression. She walked over and peered at the file again. "I can't figure out some of this. It would be helpful if I had more info on the Gallo family," Tony said.

"Well, I have some for you. I was able to access the FBI files on the Gallos, it should be enough to make a rough timeline," McGee said, and he pulled it all up on the big screen so Tony could see. Some windows displayed history of the family before Markus and his brother, and some told about events after they were grown up.

"Thanks, McGoo," Tony said, and Tim went back into hyper focus mode. Ziva helped Tony for a few more minutes, sorting and writing notes, and transferring data from the faded and worn papers to a notepad. Eventually a phone call pulled her back to her desk, leaving the senior agent to work alone again. He finally finished sorting, and transferred the notes he took to his computer. It was mostly silent, save the phones and the typing on keyboards.

When Gibbs came back, his team was staring at the crowded flatscreen, posing questions. "Find the hotel, Ziver?" he asked.

"Yes."

"What else you got?"

Knowing the question was for the whole team, Tony took the floor. He pushed a button on the remote and up popped a neat timeline. "Well, we begin our little history lesson with Ralph Gallo. He's the first known leader of the family business. Not much known about him, and nothing's really important about him, except that he had two sons and a daughter. The oldest, our friend Ernest Gallo, took over the family biz after his dad died. He was thirty five at the time."

Another click, and the timeline added a point showing when Ernest took over, in the year 1980.

"The second brother, Paul, was five years younger than Ernest. He took over after Ernest was killed, in 1983." Another point appeared on the virtual timeline.

"Their sister Eve died when she was twenty in 1982. She was never involved in anything. She was obviously much younger than either brother."

"Does it say why she was killed?" Ziva asked, saddened by the thought of a young woman dying so soon in life. Tony turned to Gibbs, eyebrows raised. Gibbs scowled at a memory, then decided to share.

"She was killed. It looked like there was some sexual harassment involved. She had very strong bruises, and a black eye."

The mood in the bullpen became somber, as each team member had personal experiences with caring for a young girl: Ziva and Tim had their sisters, Gibbs had his Kelly. Even Tony had endured cases and personally known victims of such attacks.

"Did they catch who did it?" McGee asked. A moment of silence followed, time enough for the agents to understand.

"The sailors..." Tony started. When his mind was back on track, he clicked the button again. This time, the murders of the sailors appeared, in 1982.

"So, Ernest takes over in 1980. Eve Gallo is killed in 1982. How much later...?"

"A month," Gibbs said.

"A month passes, and by then all seven sailors, Eve's attackers, are dead. This is around December. So, Gibbs goes undercover by the end of January 1983."

"What made Gallo such a prime suspect so quickly?" Tim asked.

"He used trademark guns and bullets that the Gallos smuggled back then. Plus, his sister had just been killed. The FBI could actually connect dots back then," Gibbs stated, using more words than usual for the older agent.

"Alright, so Gibbs goes undercover in January, and is finished by that November," Tony continued. The timeline was changed to agree.

"Ernest could have sent someone to do it for him, but he killed those sailors himself?" McGee questioned, confused.

"Crime of passion," Ziva replied.

"We Italians are very passionate people," Tony said proudly. Tim rolled his eyes.

Catching Gibbs' glare, DiNozzo jumped right back into the story. "After the case was officially cold, Ernest was found dead. No one knows who killed him. His brother Paul takes over the good old family business, same year. Paul Gallo died in 2009 of cancer. And this is where it gets interesting..."

Tony pulled out the file and opened it. Reading from the notes, he declared, "Thomas and Markus Gallo. Our victim, Markus, was born in 1980 not long after Ernest took over. Thomas is...was?...older than Markus. He was born 1974. He is 38, is married, but has no kids like his brother."

"He sounds like someone we should talk to," Tony finished.

"Nice work, DiNozzo. McGee." Tim sat at his desk, and pulled up more on Markus that Gibbs actually did not know.

"Markus and Thomas lived with their mother under the mentorship of their uncle. They both did exceedingly well in school. After high school Thomas went to Harvard, and Markus began his semester at the Naval Academy. When Thomas graduated he began working closely with his uncle, while Markus served overseas. When he came back, he pretty much did nothing. That we know of. But we have his address. Or really, addresses. All members of the Gallo family stay at the big mansion up in New York, but most have their own little home somewhere. Markus owned a beach house in Hawaii and a house near Annapolis. I've got a warrant for that one."

Gibbs nodded. "You and DiNozzo go there. Ziva, with me, we're going back to that hotel."

Ziva barely suppressed a groan, and Tony chuckled. "Have fun at the boondocks! Paddle faster, I think I hear banjo music."

**i know that was kinda a lot to follow, but now the case is officially underway... Let the action begin! Stay tuned, the next chapter throws a wrench in the works.**


End file.
